Close Every Door
by Silver Pride
Summary: Tony stumbled through the shattered streets of New York, panting as his feet hit the hard concrete of the ground. Insanity. That was the only word to describe what was happening in America. The dead were walking.


Tony stumbled through the shattered streets of New York, panting as his feet hit the hard concrete of the ground.

Insanity. That was the only word to describe what was happening in America.

The dead were walking.

No. Not only walking.

Running, ripping, sprinting, clawing, tearing, launching, biting, stalking, jerking, mauling... devouring.

Corpses lay in the street. Stomachs torn, limbs flung from the bodies, innards spread, heads cracked wide open.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

Screams slashed through the air. Desperate voices calling for help that may never arrive.

But Tony forced himself to continue running.

There was no possible way that the famous Tony Stark could efficiently save anyone in a tattered business ensemble.

Tony Stark was _nothing_ without his gold and red suit.

He was not _Iron man_.

...not yet.

"Jarvis?" Tony shouted over the screeches of the dead.

"Yes, sir?" The polite voice answered through the small device that hung from his ear.

"Patch me in to Fury." The billionaire demanded breathlessly, hurtling over a fallen waitress.

"Stark. Are you there?" The voice of the S.H.I.E.L.D director barked through the ear piece.

Tony sighed in relief. "Thank god! I didn't think you'd pick up. Do you have any Idea what the hell is happening down here?"

Fury growled. "Of course I know what is happening. America is under attack. Hell is the opposing force. S.H.I.E.L.D is on the scene." There were some shouts in the background and Fury Groaned. "I am calling the Avengers in. Stop what you are doing and start flying to the Helicarrier."

"Well, gee. I'll just do that." Tony stated with heavy laces of sarcasm. "Just one problem. Tony Stark can't fly."

A moment of silence passed over the line. "You're... _not_ suited up?"

"Not in the sense that I would like."Tony gasped. "I am just a block away from the tower. I think I can make it."

Only as he slowed to turn the corner did the genius notice the sudden eerie silence that inhabited the area.

Tony caught sight of the thick glass doors of his beloved sanctuary. Spurred on by the sudden manifestation of hope that had bloomed in his chest, Tony dodged a grey clawed hand and sprinted with renewed speed towards safety.

"Where is your location Stark?" Came the stressed voice of the director.

"I'm almost there. Just a few more feet." Tony panted, leaping over the body of a mutilated taxi driver.

Too late did Tony register the slight tug on the cuff of his pant leg. As soon as he felt the grip tighten, the billionaire felt himself plummet towards the cracked grey surface of the street.

Fall. Fall. Fall.

The fallen man whipped his head around and gasped in horror.

Emotionless wide gray eyes stared hungrily at Tony. Boney fingers dug harshly into the limb that it clutched, pulling it –along with the billionaire- closer.

Tony swore in panic and began kicking the creature away.

Kick. Kick. Kick.

Yet as he struggled to free himself from the animate carcass, Tony was dreadfully aware of the fact that the zombie was quickly overpowering him.

Only an arms reach away from the Tower's main doorway.

The undead driver yanked Tony farther from the door as Tony attempted to reach for the entrance once more.

Saliva and other unknown liquids dripped from the corpse's mow onto its prey as it attempted to impede the constant struggles of its victim; it's dangerous teeth exposed and ready to tear flesh from bone.

Tony continued to thrash, kick, and shove. Yet the Corpse was _exceptionally_ heavy.

Tony persisted. Hands pushing at the crimson covered chest with the strength of all of his upper body, Tony kept it away.

Until...

Two gory hands wrapped fully around the billionaire's neck.

Dirt covered nails punctured the soft skin and dug into the fleshy tissue for a secure grip.

The pain of the small wounds stung more than possibly expected. The feeling of fire spread from the diminutive pierce marks causing Tony to howl in agony.

Yet this only fueled the billionaire's struggles.

The dead would have none of that.

Tightening its grip on the neck, the zombie jerked the head of the screaming man upwards and forcefully slammed it into the concrete.

And Tony grew silent.

The sound of a crack resounded through the street.

His movements became sluggish and weak until all motion stopped.

Head filled with static, Tony did not hear the demanding voice of Fury, nor the transition to a pleading Bruce.

Instead, Tony Stark blinked at the exceptional blueness of the sky above; enthralled in the swinging of the elevated buildings that framed the brilliant colour.

So dim was his awareness that he only felt a light pressure as the teeth of the monster sunk into his shoulder.

He was above the pain and sadness.

He was so light...

He was endless...

Boundless...

Dying...

And the sky was _so_ blue...

So extreme...

Vast...

Unlimited...

And then...

It was gone.

Vanished.

Replaced the three fingered persona of a certain robotic assistant.

"Hey Dummy" The man murmured. Voice slightly garbled as he coughed a minor amount of blood from his mouth.

Dummy silently bent and attached his metal digits around Tony's bloodied hand.

And at that moment the warped consciousness that had overtaken Tony's mind parted.

He _felt_ the stinging cold of the curling steel.

He _noticed_ the sudden loss of heaviness as dummy pulled the body of the corpse off of him.

Strange... Tony thought. He had been positive that it had had a head before...

He _smelt_ and _tasted_ the copper of spilt blood.

He _heard_ the panicked voices of his team as they all attempted to get him to answer.

But he still did not feel pain.

Everything was numb...

Apart from his own shallow gasps and the pleas of his comrades, everything was silent

And then there were footsteps...

Small and shuffling...

Uneven hobbling...

Hope bloomed in his chest as the billionaire imagined that others have survived the atrocity.

With what strength he could conjure, Tony turned his slightly pounding head.

Cheek resting in a small puddle of liquidized ruby, Tony stared as a young boy- no more than six years of age- stumbled around the corner.

Nearly about to call to the child, Tony saw something that he wished he had not.

The eyes.

The kid was dead...

And he was not alone...

...

"Well, my day just gets better and better." Tony sighed wearily, closing his eyes and preparing for his demise; completely forgetting his mechanical invention that still clutched him.

With the lost sensation of his body and the fact that he had his eyes closed in accepted defeat, Tony failed to notice the struggle of Dummy as he dragged his body across the rough cement.

...

Brown eyes drifted opened as the owner of said orbs heard a sound.

Having experienced the sound once before, Tony's clouded mind provided him with an memory of a chickadee colliding with his workplace window.

What a strange chickadee...

Oh, correction... Zombie.

It was now that the billionaire was truly thankful that he had installed the near indestructible glass.

Tony ignored the fact that Dummy was attempting to boost his lead-weight body onto one of the foyer futons in favour of watching the swarm of undead creatures pound at his door.

Apparently they did not understand the concept of _pull_ instead of _push_.

Knock. Knock. _Pound_.

"Who's there?" Tony called/ whispered, causing Dummy to tilt his 'head' in confusion. Tony half heartedly scowled at the machine and stuck his tongue out. Dummy calmly poked the muscle back in.

Tony huffed. "I swear, I should have disciplined you more in the past. You have mastered the ways of sass."

Somehow the mechanical support managed to imitate a shrug.

A wet chuckle emanated from Tony."Why you cheeky little-"

"Sir, " Jarvis's practiced voice cut through the building. " You have an incoming call from Mr. Banner. Shall I pull up a screen?"

"Bruce?" Tony questioned, attempting to reach the earpiece which he had previously been communicating through. After many tries, Tony managed to feel the small device.

Broken.

Soaked.

Damn blood...

Maybe he should be more concerned over the amount of blood that was leaving him...

Nah...


End file.
